Boyfriend
by AFishNamedSushi
Summary: When Shepard's suggestion that she and Garrus "blow off steam" doesn't turn out quite as she expected, she and our favorite turian embark on an emotional rollercoaster complete with confusion, angst, anger, and a "happy ending".
1. Chapter 1

**Usual disclaimer stuff: Bioware owns all, I am not making money off this, etc**

**This story was originally posted on the K-meme for a prompt regarding Femshep being rejected by Garrus when she approaches him to "blow off steam". The idea ran away with me from there, and the following is the result. The plan is to re-tweak some of the chapters and post them as I do so. This is my first fic as well, so reviews and constructive crit is welcome**

* * *

"Why don't you and I blow off some steam? We could test your reach…and my flexibility"

Silence. "Uh…no, Shepard. I don't think so."

No. _No?_

"But if you're trying to make me blush, you almost did it."

More silence.

"If that's all you need, Shepard, I really have to get back to these calibrations."

Garrus turned back to his console and resumed typing, leaving Shepard standing in a state of complete and utter shock. After a few moments she realized that she was gaping. Her mouth shut with a snap, and she turned and left the main battery. Left him to his…calibrations.

_What the fuck just happened?_

She really wasn't sure what to do, what to think. Had she really just been rejected? This was not at all how it was supposed to go.

Shepard did not have a Turian fetish. Never before could she remember looking at any Turian, or any member of another species for that matter, and seeing anything other than potential enemy or military ally. Her military expertise and training had conditioned her to expect the unexpected, so when she first laid eyes on the different alien species that littered the galaxy, she knew what to expect. It didn't mean that she was used to them, just as much as anyone could be short of actually socializing with them. Serving onboard the SRI was the first time she had ever had any one-on-one time with a member of another species, and when she had gotten the opportunity to interact and build friendships with them, she began to distinguish them as individuals with unique personalities and views of the universe. Even then, they were simply themselves, her friends. Tali, Liara, Wrex, Garrus…

A sudden movement in front of her startled Shepard out of her reverie. Looking up, she barely avoided colliding with the tattooed woman who was barreling out of the elevator.

"What the fuck Shepard? Watch it."

The two women swapped places, Shepard entering the elevator as Jack was exiting. If Jack was glaring at her, she didn't notice. Her brain was still trying to process how she had gotten herself into this situation.

For the life of her she could not remember the exact moment that her mind had decided that Garrus was more than just her friend. It probably had something to do with his almost-death. In that moment when he was cradled in her arms, his blood pooling between her fingers, she had felt true desperation, as if she could stop the bleeding through sheer want. Her relief that he had ended up okay was magnified when she found out that he had felt the need to avenge her death by bringing justice to Omega. It was an impossible goal, but she recognized it as a fitting tribute to her memory that only he could give her.

Maybe it was the admiration she felt after the revelation that he was Archangel, the humility she felt when she realized that she had such an effect on him, the comfort she felt knowing he would always watch her six, the relief that he would accept her return to the living with nothing more than a "Right behind you, Shepard"…

He was her best friend. She had fallen for her best friend, a tale as old as time. And she had just been officially friend-zoned by said friend.

Entering her quarters, Shepard stood for a moment facing the empty void of her room. Its length seemed vast, completely at odds with her congested mind. She didn't know what to think, but she did know how she felt.

Embarrassed.

She felt like running to her bed and hiding under the covers until it all was forgotten or she wished hard enough that it had all been a terrible dream. Instead, she stripped and headed to the shower, leaving her uniform in a rumpled heap by the door. The warm water held promises of tension relief, as it had for her many times after countless missions.

Shepard stood still, hands braced on the shower wall in front of her, and let the water blast her face. How had she misjudged the situation so severely? While he may not be a human, Garrus had been showing signs of affection that would have been obvious for any species. Little things that had struck her, like waiting for her to exit the shuttle before himself, holding her chair for her to sit during meals in the mess, offering her the extra thermal clip found on the ground. She had seriously thought he was starting to feel things for her more than just friendship. And she had started feeling those things in return.

Shutting off the water, Shepard's confusion ebbed and was replaced by a building frustration. At herself, for misreading his signs of friendship for something more and acting on her feelings. At him for being so fucking nice and supportive and leading her on.

As she dressed in her night clothes and crawled into bed, Shepard decided that she wouldn't waste another thought on what had happened. She got the picture now – he wasn't interested in her the same way she was interested in him. Either he was too chicken shit to finish what he started by flirting with her or he was too dumb to realize he was doing it in the first place. She had laid herself out before him and was shot down.

Tomorrow would see where things lay between them. As she settled in for a restless sleep, Shepard hoped the only consequence of her misguided action would be a mutual refusal to discuss it the next time she saw him.

* * *

Garrus stood facing his console with all his attention focused on the scrolling code fragments flying across the screen. It didn't even matter that he wasn't typing anything even closely resembling a code. All that mattered was that he kept moving his hands, feigning ignorance and acting as if he didn't know that she was still standing right behind him.

The uncomfortable tension was palpable. It hung in the air and magnified everything; the clicking of his talons on the console were obscenely loud, the humming of the Normandy's engines made the room seem to vibrate, and even her presence at his back seemed to resonate more energy than usual.

He could always fucking…feel her. It was one of those connections that soldiers and friends develop after spending enough time with one another facing certain death. Eventually your body just seemed to grow nerves that sensed where your allies were in relation to yourself. It came in really handy during combat, creating a seamless flow of action that had helped them accomplish missions that otherwise would have been impossible. Now though, it was really fucking annoying.

Eventually he sensed that she had left. Her energy and scent were gone before his brain even registered the sound of the door closing. Garrus released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. His hands stilled, mandibles drawn tight against his face. He closed his eyes.

_What the fuck just happened?_

Part of his brain demanded that the situation was his fault. He had been telling her about the story of his bout with the recon scout from so many years ago. It was only natural that she had thought he was coming on to her. Why the hell else would he have told her a story with such an…ending?

On the other hand, when had he and Shepard crossed the line from being friends bullshitting about anything to her propositioning him? It seemed totally out of character for her to misinterpret what he had said so severely. If anything, she should had shaken her head and laughed before making some smart-ass comment that would have made him chuckle in spite of himself.

Since rejoining the Normandy, he had noticed that she had changed. It was understandable given her situation. There weren't exactly vids that helped explain how you're supposed to deal with coming back from the dead. Or for having people you trusted turn their back on you when you needed them the most. He knew what that was like, being betrayed by those you thought were your friends…

Garrus grimaced. No need to go down that dark road. It had been dealt with. With Shepard's help he had found closure with the whole Sidonis situation. She had proven to him that she was his eternal friend and he wanted desperately to prove the same to her. He knew he would be there for her no matter what.

Just…not that way.

He wasn't sure what to think about her behavior. He knew how he felt though, and it was guilty. Guilt that he hadn't seen this coming and prepared better, ashamed that he had led her on without realizing it, regret at telling her that fucking story…

A beep from the console alerted Garrus to the present. His program was about to log him out due to inactivity. He shook his head, the gesture more an attempt to clear the clogging mess of thoughts from his brain. Resuming his work, Garrus made the decision that this incident had been a simple misunderstanding. If he knew Shepard, she would probably want to pretend that this didn't happen.

He couldn't agree more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Usual disclaimer stuff: Bioware owns all, I'm not making money off this, etc**

**A/N: I added a second part to Chapter 1, so you should go re-read that chapter before reading this one. Thanks for reading, I hope you are enjoying it!**

* * *

"Scoped and dropped!"

They were groundside again, this time on Ilium with the intention of rescuing Miranda's estranged sister. In the brief times since her return to the living that Shepard had any one-on-one time with the Cerberus operative, none of their interactions could be described as "personal". Miranda was not one to divulge any information other than what social niceties demanded of her. It made her look like a frigid bitch, but Shepard was beginning to see how such a life approach may come in handy.

Especially after her little slip.

"Scratch one!"

Shepard winced. Normally his outbursts would make her laugh. Today though, they were putting her on edge. Ever since he shot her down, she had made a conscious effort to act as if nothing had happened. That was why she included him in the ground team for this mission. She wanted to make sure that he knew that nothing had changed between them. He certainly didn't seem affected by it anyway. If anything, his behavior was an indication that he was acting just as hard as she was.

Which was what she wanted.

So why was it annoying her so much?

As they wove through stacks of crates that would lead them past the conveyor system, Shepard tried not to focus on the fact that he was right behind her. She could feel him there, at her six. It affected her more than she knew it ought to. Now that she had become aware of her feelings for him, it seemed that all her senses were extra-sensitive to his every move. And now that she knew he was also aware of how she felt and didn't return said feelings…well, she was waiting for the other shoe to drop and shatter the illusion they had built.

A sharp burst of light woke Shepard to the dangerous reality taking place in front of her. Eclipse mercs had swarmed from the corridor on the other side of the warehouse and were attacking the trio as they approached. She felt the tell-tale tingle of an Eclipse Engineer's fireball attack whittling away at her shield as it fought to keep the fire from breaching her armor. She raised her assault rifle and sighted the offending asari between the scope.

Before she could pull the trigger, the bitch's head exploded. Sniper shot right between the eyes.

Mother fucker.

Shepard was never really one to count kills during a mission. She didn't relish killing, didn't seek it out as an activity. It was simply part of her job, something she would do because she had to. It accomplished a very simple goal of killing one's enemy. But she had been around soldiers long enough to recognize that such competition gave an edge to fighting that ended in the same result, so she let it slide when her compatriots endulged.

She didn't have to turn around to see his smirk. His smug attitude permeated the air, his acknowledgment that she had been distracted and he had taken it upon himself to save her.

What an asshole. She suddenly didn't want to be anywhere near him.

Shepard broke the cover she had been keeping behind a low wall and vaulted herself towards two more mercs heading their way. Reaching the first one, she slammed the butt of her rifle in an upwards strike against the asari's nose. The sickening crunch was drowned by the merc's grunt of pain. Shepard quickly followed the assault with a blast right to the chest of her assailant. As that one fell, the other had drawn closer and was already in the process of readying their weapon for a similar assault on Shepard. She barely dodged the attack, swerving to the side where she lost her balance. Tucking into a roll, she narrowly avoided the blast from the Vanguard's shotgun, aimed exactly where she had been standing. Lifting her rifle, Shepard let loose a barrage of bullets right into the advancing asari. She screamed, and fell to the floor.

Looking around, it appeared that the way was clear for the team to make their way to the elevator that would take them to Miranda's contact. The operative herself was already making her way towards it, gun drawn in case there were any more Eclipse hiding inside.

Very purposefully not looking behind her, Shepard collected the thermal clips of the fallen and made her way towards the cleared elevator. She sensed Garrus moving behind her, but he remained silent. Good. She really didn't want to hear his opinion on the reckless behavior she had just displayed. Miranda was waiting for them inside, omnitool busy decrypting the access codes for their next location.

"Ready, Shepard?"

"Let's do it."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to those of you who have set alerts for this story, and for those who have reviewed. Also, I swear I knew that you're not supposed to capitalize turian...but I keep doing it anyway. Since this story is pre-written from when it was on the k-meme I'll have to make sure I take that into account when re-editing :)**

**Also, on that note, there be some *cough* steamy bits ahead...if the whole k-meme thing wasn't any indication. If that ain't your thing, I'll let you know when to avert your eyes, although it is the big finish**

**Yes, that pun was intended. Ok, enough of the author's note**

* * *

Garrus sat at the table in the mess hall, stirring spoonfuls of his dextro paste into deformed mountains on his plate. His eyes were on his meal, but his mind was focused elsewhere. Specifically, towards the med bay on his right where Shepard was being patched up by Doctor Chakwas.

She had taken an incendiary attack directly to the chest during the mission on Ilium, damaging her armor's shield interface. The skin-weave she wore underneath her armor didn't provide enough protection from the over-heated metal, and she had received some minor burns. She wasn't hurt that badly, but that didn't stop Doctor Chakwas from demanding that she report to the med-bay the minute they returned to the Normandy.

She hadn't spoken to him once during the entire mission. She acted like he wasn't even there.

He had seen the Eclipse engineer target her from across the warehouse, sending out a fireball directed right at her. It wasn't uncommon for their enemies to target Shepard directly once they realized where she was. What was new was for her to be so distracted that she let herself get hit. He felt the panic seize him all over again, watching her stumble and shake her head at the burst of light her shields emitted as they were overwhelmed. He saw the merc about to move in for another attack, quickly sighted them in his scope, and took their head off.

She should have turned to him, offering a relieved half-smile or a nod of thanks. Instead, she ran right into the middle of the fucking fight. Where he couldn't line up a shot and be sure he wouldn't hit her.

His fingers tightened around the utensil in his hand.

Ever since Garrus had come back aboard the Normandy, he had been included in every ground mission Shepard went on. He knew that she hated having to work for Cerberus, felt trapped by the limitations placed on her by the Alliance's stubborn refusal to acknowledge the Reaper threat. He could relate, his own knowledge of what they were up against giving him insight into how frustrated she must be. But, he also knew the danger of making everything a personal responsibility. He would never mention that to her, of course, but that didn't mean that he couldn't look out for her a little bit extra when they were groundside.

Which was why he was so pissed off.

He was mad at himself for letting her get hurt, for not reacting quickly enough when he saw how unfocused she was. He was mad at her for being distracted, for getting herself hurt and then refusing to let him know she was okay, for getting mad at him for protecting her...

He dropped his utensil to his plate with a clang. He wanted to grab something. His hands itched with pent frustration, fingers flexing unconsciously. He wanted to grab her and make her look at him, make her talk to him.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

He looked up to see the tattooed inmate standing in front of him. How did he miss that one? Jack was not subtle, and even if she was being extra-stealthy he would has smelled her unique mix of anger and biotic and crazy that permeated the air around her. The smell that was now overwhelming as his brain finally registered that she was directly in front of him. He had been so distracted thinking about Shepard that he hadn't noticed her approach.

And that made him even madder.

Her games were going to get him fucking killed.

"What?"

Jack scoffed. "You're growling, asshole. Sound like a fucking varren."

He sighed. Looking down, he saw that his hands were clenched in his lap, stilled in their attempts to grab thin air.

"What do you want, Jack?"

She smirked and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Came to talk to Shepard."

At that moment the door to the medbay opened, the unique combination of medigel and antiseptic following Shepard as she emerged. She was wearing her usual ship-board uniform, rubbing her arms absently and appeared lost in thought. She straightened when she saw them, assuming the poise her rank instilled.

"Jack. Vakarian." She nodded to each in turn, and began to make her way past the duo towards the elevator.

"I wanted to talk to you, Shepard". The words were out of his mouth before he even realized he had spoken.

"Me first, asshole" Jack said. "Shepard, I need to talk to you about that…thing…we talked about". She glanced at Garrus briefly before turning back to Shepard.

Shepard sighed, "Okay, Jack. We can talk."

Garrus could see that she was using Jack's presence as a way to avoid talking with him. He also knew that she wouldn't acknowledge there was a problem between them in front of her crew.

"That's fine, Shepard. I'll come by your quarters later and we can talk."

He felt her spike of anger even though she still wouldn't look at him. Underneath her careful neutrality, he knew she was seething. She knew exactly what he was doing.

"Fine." She took a deep breath. "Jack, I'll meet you down in Engineering in a few."

"Yeah, whatever". Jack stalked to the elevator, leaving Garrus and Shepard to stare at one another. They remained silent until the elevator doors were shut behind Jack.

Shepard crossed her arms in front of her chest. Garrus knew the gesture was an unconscious one, meant to shield herself from whatever she was confronting. He had seen her adopt this gesture hundreds of times with carefully guarded enemies, other crew members, authority figures, strangers…

But never with him.

She was closing herself off. He had hit a brick wall before he had even begun.

"What do you want, Vakarian?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A short update for you all while I work on editing upcoming parts. Thank you again to all who have set alerts for the story - it is really appreciated!**

* * *

She didn't want to meet his eyes. Those wonderfully striking blue eyes. She could remember a time, when she hadn't quite realized the extent of her feelings for him, that she would catch herself staring at those eyes. She would marvel at how they shone when he was recounting a particularly good fight, blaze when he was angry, narrow with intensity when he was sighting down an enemy.

She'd even seen this particular look before; the one that said anger. The one that forcefully reminded her that for all their similarities he was so very not human.

He was so far from human that a part of Shepard's mind wondered what kind of kool-aid she had been drinking for ever thinking of Garrus…that way.

But as she stood before him, arms crossed in front of her chest and weight on one leg – her carefully affected pose of 'I don't give a shit' – she couldn't help her mind, and her eyes, from appraising him.

He was tall. And big. Such obvious characteristics somehow never occurred to her with such intensity as they did now. For some reason, she didn't remember him being this…imposing…before. Military life meant she wasn't unaccustomed to being around large men. Now though, standing in front of Garrus as he stared her down, she felt tiny. Things about him that she never really paid attention to before were making themselves uncomfortably known. Like how large his hands were, how his cinched waist accentuated the musculature of his thighs and the broadness of his chest, how he was so graceful on and off the battlefield even in all that scarred armor, how she knew he was so much stronger than he looked, that there was so much coiled muscle underneath…

Biology and self-preservation instinct told her that she should be afraid to have this predator before her and to be the focus of his anger. Her stupid brain told her that she was a fool for not realizing before how sexy he was.

"Well?"

Shepard blinked. Had she been staring like an idiot?

"Well, what?"

Garrus snorted. His gaze was intense as it held hers. She crossed her arms tighter around herself and stared back.

"You said you wanted to talk to me. What do you want?" she asked.

"What's going on, Shepard?"

"I don't know what you're talking about". It was automatic, a reflex.

"Cut the crap, Shepard. You've been ignoring me ever since…our talk".

She willed all the cells in her body not to betray her words. "You're imagining things."

He twitched. Shepard wondered if he was fighting the urge to grab her. Had the situation been reversed, she was sure she would have punched him by now for acting so childish. He was upset with her, and he was upset with himself. But he didn't know why.

She felt a surge of regret. Despite her anger, she knew that he hadn't done anything wrong. She knew that the only reason this was affecting him so much was because it was her. She knew how much he valued their friendship, and she had used that to her advantage to make him pay for slighting her. She felt so far away from him.

But she just didn't know what to say.

"Fine. Whatever. I won't bother you anymore, Commander".

He turned away and began walking towards the main battery. She felt a panic seize her, could see the widening chasm into which their friendship would crumble if she didn't do something, anything.

"Garrus…please…" Her voice was small, desperate.

He didn't stop. Her eyes stayed glued to his departing back until they were obscured by the door to the main battery shutting behind him.

Shepard felt her arms move to her sides. She was numb, a mental bandage to stop herself from thinking too hard about what just happened. Stop herself from wondering if she had fucked up the best friendship she'd ever had. She turned towards the elevator, refusing to look at the ground for fear she would see the telltale broken pieces.

She had to go talk to Jack. Then she needed a fucking drink.


	5. Chapter 5

**Ready for more angst? Good, cuz this chapter is full of it :) Starting with the next one is where things get good and shteamy. **

**Thanks to all of you who have set alerts for this story and taken the time to review. I really appreciate it!**

* * *

It was hard to decide which was more powerful; the harsh pounding of her heart beating in her chest or the thrumming of the base that made everything inside her vibrate.

Shepard was seated at the bar in Afterlife, at the personal request of Queen Bitch herself. Apparently she hadn't been brought back from the dead to just kill Reapers, as it was 'suggested' that she pay Aria a visit. She didn't really see the point. Now that they had retrieved Mordin and Garrus from Omega, Shepard felt that the asari had nothing more to offer them. Which was why she hated having to placate her by, in Aria's words, "lose that stick up your ass and go have a drink'".

But Shepard was good at following orders, even if she didn't see the reason behind them. Not to mention that this sidestep allowed her to accomplish two goals simultaneously. The first was to allow her crew some down-time before they all most likely died when they went through the Omega relay.

The second was to get that fucking drink she wanted.

Running her finger along the wet rim of her glass, Shepard had to admit that she felt better than she had in a while. Not happy, per say, but nice and…insensitive. The correlation between her satiety and the drink in her hand, as well as the row of empty ones surrounding it, was nice and simple.

Drink more, feel better.

That was solid math in her mind.

Grabbing the glass, she shot it back and felt the expected warmth flood through her. She knew it was a false comfort, one that would leave her feeling just as shitty as before when it was over. Looking up, Shepard didn't see any of her crew. She had informed them all via mass-email that this was a mandatory shore leave. She justified not speaking with them in person by saying that she was too busy, but she knew it was because she didn't want to face…him.

Not after she had fucked up so badly.

Garrus was entitled to his anger after the manipulated mind-fuck she had put on him. She wanted to apologize, wanted to not be such a fucking coward, afraid that he would reject her again. Instead she was hiding, getting drunk in some shitty bar on a shitty asteroid out in the middle of shit nowhere.

She deserved what she was getting.

Shepard caught the eye of the turian bartender and nodded, her silent cue for yet another drink. He briefly looked at the graveyard of empty glasses in front of her before setting another drink down on the counter. She leaned forward, hand out to trace the rim and continue her silent recrimination.

"That's a lot of drinks for one woman."

She felt the presence of their mass behind her before she turned around to look. Three Blue Suns mercenaries in full armor stood behind her, arms crossed in self-assured postures that spoke of conceit and confidence. They were all human, each with the customary tattoo adorning their necks. They were practically leering, not even trying to hide how they were body-checking her.

At least she knew that she was attractive to somebody, even if it was crazy psychopaths.

"What's wrong baby? You get stood up?" the one in the middle asked.

Their 'concern' was touching. She was obviously vulnerable, a lone woman sitting at a bar nursing her umpteenth drink. The few cells in her brain that weren't quite as drunk wanted to tell him to fuck off, to pull out her hand cannon and blow a hole in the guy's kneecaps. Garrus would be so proud of her. He would expect her not to let herself be ogled like some cheap hooker. The rest of her brain reminded her that she had already proven that she wasn't worth whatever Garrus thought of her.

Under their appraisal, she became conscious of how she was announcing to the entire bar that she was wallowing in a pit of her own self-despair.

And she was suddenly very sick of it.

She slammed back the drink and swiveled around to face the trio.

"You waitin' for anybody?" one of them asked.

She grinned at him, "Nope".

They one in the middle continued to stare at her. She noticed the other two share a glimpse behind him.

"Wanna dance?" he asked.

She peeked at the dance floor between two of their forms. It was crowded, a writhing mass of intoxication and sweat all mashed together in an uncoordinated heap. For her drink-addled brain, it held the promise of distraction. She rose from her seat and the group parted to let her pass. Squeezing between two grinding asari, she settled into a small uninhabited space.

The wall of people around her felt amazing, creating the perfect shield from the rest of the club. She was alone in here, and she felt a twinge better knowing she was obscured.  
Then she was surrounded. They came at her from all sides, crushing the air around her with their massive frames. Their physical proximity made her feel trapped, and the only way she could see to get herself out of it was to recede within her own mind.

She felt herself begin to sway, an incoherent rhythm. She closed her eyes, registering the hard press of multiple pairs of hands as they touched her. So many hands invading and grasping at her shoulders, her back, her hips…

Suddenly a firm hand that was not at all like the others grabbed her arm. A wave of dizziness overcame her as she was yanked backwards, her feet stumbling under the harsh momentum. The pulling increased while her feet flew, pieces of the surrounding club filtering into her blurred vision as she was led away from the dance floor towards one of the private rooms in the back of the club.

Finally, she was stopped. It took her brain a few seconds to adjust as she was spun harshly to face a pair of piercing blue eyes.

He was holding her arms tightly, staring at her so hard she felt like she was being x-rayed.

"Shepard?"

He was so close, closer than he had ever been outside of battle. She wanted to kiss him so badly.

It was his sharp intake of breath and the tightening of his hands on her arms which told her that her brain and her body weren't quite in synch. When they finally caught up with one another, she realized that she had closed the distance and was actually kissing him.

Ah, fuck it.


	6. Chapter 6

**One more chapter left folks! Next one will truly earn this story's M rating, and I'm not sure I'll edit out much stuff that was on the k-meme, other than general editing. Personally, I read M rated stories for a reason, and it's not the language. And I don't want to write anything I wouldn't read. Plus, I don't consider the level of smut to be anything different than what you can find in romance novels on the shelves at WalMart. Until I'm told otherwise, I'm going to assume the readers of this story know what they're getting into.**

* * *

Holy shit.

That was the first thought that went through his brain as this soft, yielding creature pushed herself closer to him, crushing against his mouth with her insistent lips. He was surprised by her sudden invasion, his body stilling at the unfamiliar contact. His hands tightened on her arms, feeling the skin depress just a tad as they were stopped by the hard muscle underneath. She broke the kiss, panting for air like she had forgotten how to breathe. She probably had, with how drunk she was. Her wide eyes held his stare, glassed with intoxication.

Part of his brain said that he should let her go. Whatever the rest said was overwhelmed by the intensity of sensations that assaulted his drink-adled brain as it reacted to her proximity.

He had already been well into his own pile of drinks when he realized she had moved. It wasn't like he was purposefully watching her at the bar, but he knew that she was there. Despite how disappointed he was with her, Garrus just couldn't bring himself to let her be alone in this shithole. He knew he would never forgive himself if something happened to her when he wasn't there to back her up.

He just had to watch her six, no matter what.

That didn't mean that he had to announce his presence, but he would check in on her occasionally between drinks.

Then she was gone.

Panic seized him when he realized she wasn't where his eyes had left her, and he began anxiously searching the club. His relief when he found her quickly morphed into rage when he saw how she was being manhandled by the group of mercenaries. She was obviously drunk, much farther gone than he had thought. She was swaying and moving to the music with her eyes closed, but her posture was tight. As if her body couldn't help its objection to the multitude of strange hands touching it.

Very much unlike right now.

Even though his hands held her at a distance her whole body melted in his arms. She was completely uninhibited, either not caring about or unable to control her body's reactions. The scent was overwhelming, alcohol mixing with the unmistakable waves of her arousal…

For him.

That knowledge and the combination of sensations that were assaulting him made his head spin. He didn't realize he had leaned in towards her until he felt the soft skin of her jaw as he dipped his face against her neck. He inhaled deeply, the waves magnifying with each beat of her racing heart. Every part of him through to his bones fought the urge to bite her, to sink his teeth into the fragile skin and claim her. He let out a deep growl of frustration against her skin. She shivered and her aroma spiked harshly.

It seemed they were in a similar state. He couldn't control how his body responded to her reactions. He wasn't sure he wanted to. He could feel himself growing and expanding beneath his suit, an unconscious response to the presence of a willing and aroused female within his grasp.

Except that this wasn't just any female.

It was Shepard…His Shepard.

She had always been so much more than just the Savior of the Citadel, first human Spectre. She was calm under fire but uneasy around politicians, kind to her friends but ruthless with her enemies, wise beyond years but clueless with tech, quick to joke but rarely ever truly laughed. She had saved his life in more ways than one. He had failed to save hers.

The soft press of her strange human lips to his face were making it difficult for him to remember that he was supposed to be mad at her. She had been acting completely foolish because he refused to give her what she wanted. He wouldn't cross that line with her, couldn't bring himself to ruin the best friendship he'd ever had with some awkward mis-timed cross-species liaison.

On a suicide mission.

When he wasn't even sure he was interested.

But...

That's what they were doing now.

And it wasn't as bad as he had anticipated.

Or maybe he was so drunk that his body and his mind weren't quite in sync. Maybe the nagging cautions and good intentions were being overriden by animal instinct and base arousal.

Garrus felt her arms shift as she reached for the front of his suit, nimble fingers searching for the hidden seals but slipping with inebriated dexterity. He heard himself rumble an approval and felt the corresponding spike of her energy.

He reveled in his ability to cause that reaction in her.

He wanted to see what else he could get her to do.


	7. Chapter 7

**Here it is, the last chapter! As I mentioned before, this one carries the M rating for the story. I did clean up parts of it from when it was on the K-meme (didn't want to tempt the FF gods), but the smutty spirit is still intact.**

* * *

Holy shit.

It was a repeated mantra inside Shepard's mind as she felt Garrus move against her, pulling her closer towards him as he growled and purred against her skin. He raked his talons down her back, chuckling into the crook of her neck as her fingers faltered in their task of trying to find the seals to undo his armor.

Is this really happening?

In the increasingly frequent instances where she found her thoughts drifting towards the turian, she had always stopped herself before things got this far. Out of rationality, she told herself; there was no use going down that road when it couldn't happen in reality. But it was most likely out of uncertainty, a fear that if she allowed things to play out she would always wonder if the real thing would be just as good as fantasy.

She finally found the concealed seals holding the sides of his armor. She unhooked the clasps, lifting the large front piece off his chest and dropping it carelessly to the floor. The back piece soon followed, and all that remained was the skin-tight underweave worn underneath.

He was better than she could ever have imagined. No fantasy could ever have prepared her for the exotic lines that made up the shape of his alien body, his large chest that stretched the fabric of the body-suit taught over the dense muscles.

He lifted his head from her neck, eyes falling on the short black dress she was wearing. She had pointedly opted not to wear armor to Afterlife, wanting to at least look like she was prepared to have a good time. This was an unintended benefit, as Garrus pulled the zipper down and peeled it off her shoulders to pool around her feet. He stepped back from her slightly and eyed her exposed body.

She hadn't realized it was possible to feel more naked.

As she stood before him wearing only her underwear, she felt that she was baring more than just her flesh. This was a million steps above propositioning him in the Main Battery.

She wasn't quite sure what to do with this newfound vulnerability. A surge of drunken bravado told her to push it out of her mind. She reached behind her and removed her bra, letting it join the dress at her feet.

"Garrus…"

His piercing blue eyes shot up to her face, and she felt a strange arousal at the way his predatory gaze held hers. She stepped closer to him, feeling a strong heat gliding off him in waves. She could feel him watching her as she trailed her hands down his body, feeling around for the separation between the top and bottom halves of his undersuit. Her hands seemed so small against his larger mass, the danger of her position palpable as she felt him vibrate and softly growl at her tender touch.

When her hands reached his groin she felt the unmistakable bulge.

She had…read…that the equipment was internal with turians. That reaction was telltale in any species. Reaching down with both hands, she rested one against his narrow waist, the other reaching inside the suit.

"Shepard…" He breathed.

His voice was tight, a warning tone that told her how much he was trying, and slowly failing, to control himself. She knew that turian mating was a rough affair, with the male usually pinning down the female and having his way with her. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

One of his hands reached down between them, dipping into her underwear. It was a thrilling danger that was magnified when he hooked his sharp talons against the fabric and ripped, tearing the garment to shreds. She could feel his breathing increase, mixing with hers in the short space separating their bodies. She reached upwards with one hand to scrape along his neck, fingernails scraping the little bumps that she knew were so very sensitive.

It was when she reached farther backwards and roughly squeezed his fringe that things finally exploded.

Even though she was the only one naked, it didn't hinder Garrus as he suddenly pushed her backwards into the nearest wall. Her breath caught, the air almost knocked out of her at the sudden impact. His eyes were wild as he grabbed her arms again, this time turning her around to press her chest against the hard surface. She braced herself with her hands, flushed forehead pressed into the wall. She felt him behind her, his breathing hard against the back of her neck. She expectantly readied herself for what should come next.

Except that nothing happened.

She could feel his breath as it skirted across her exposed back, but nothing else.

She was suddenly overcome with the obvious fact that he wasn't human.

Just because she had been excited to find that he was attractive to her didn't mean that he had come to the same revelation. She had been the one to propose this in the first place. She felt her stomach clench. Maybe the differences between herself and female turians were so vast that he wouldn't be able to reconcile his arousal into action. She held still, head planted against the wall and resisted the urge to turn around and look at him.

She jumped when she felt him lean over her, taloned hands skimming up her back, across her shoulders then down her sides and across her hips. Just enough pressure to leave slight red trails as they passed over her skin. He repeated his exploring path across her torso, this time dipping in towards her stomach with one hand. She twitched again when his pinprick talons made contact with the sensitive flesh of her stomach. The slight tickling sensation of his light touches caused her to buck backwards, her rear coming into contact with his groin.

He growled and increased the pressure of his grip on her stomach. His other hand trailed up her side, dipping inward to graze her breast before coming to rest on the juncture between her shoulder and neck. She felt him press himself against her opening as he leaned his mouth against her ear.

"Do you want this, Shepard?" he growled.

She swallowed and nodded her assent. There weren't words enough to describe how badly she wanted this, wanted him.

A low growl was all the warning she had before he was buried halfway inside her, causing her back to arch as she let out inarticulate cry. She winced at the sudden flood of sensations, her body unaccustomed and unprepared despite all her mental planning. He gripped her shoulder harder, pushing her down slowly onto him as his other hand held her stomach upwards, creating the perfect angle for him to enter. Her back arched again when he was fully sheathed, moaning as she felt him expand within her. He was stretching her with each stroke, causing her to cry out as each bump and ridge rubbed against all her internal pleasure buttons. Her hands clawed at the wall in front of her, seeking leverage to assist her shoving herself backwards into him. She was so close, just needed one last push. She felt herself clench as she braced for release.

"Garrus…please…" she whispered.

She felt him tense at her words. She never begged, not for anything, not for anybody. She realized that it spoke volumes about her feelings for him in that moment and that he knew it. She was delirious, the combination of drink and endorphins making her head spin, making her gladly at his mercy, ready and willing to take anything he wanted to give her. She craved to touch him, any part of him, to re-establish the connection she was so desperate for.

With a snarl, he pushed her upper body harder against the wall, mouth and teeth finding purchase on the juncture between her shoulder and neck. He pumped faster, the pain from the bite mixing with euphoria at the sensation of her blood and his saliva as it wet her skin. She moaned as he held her, mandibles fluttering against her jaw, talons cutting into her skin. He was pushing faster, desperate and frantic as he was so close to his release. A roar ripped from them both when it came.

Slowly his teeth released her neck and she winced at the newfound pain. The blood was flowing thicker now, but she couldn't say that she gave a damn. She was loose, empty, clinging to the wall in front of her in a desperate attempt to keep herself from falling to the floor in a heap. She felt him move away, an irrational panic gripping her at his separation. Her arm went up to her neck, feeling the tiny holes that would certainly scar if she didn't put any medigel on them soon.

She turned around, back leaning against the wall for support. He was still there, chest heaving and swaying slightly.

Or maybe it was her brain that was swaying.

A cold chill passed over her and she shivered, becoming aware again that she was naked. She pushed herself off the wall, looking around for her fallen undergarments. The underwear was irreparable. An acceptable loss.

"We should probably get out of here" she slurred.

He handed her the fallen dress as she finished clasping the bra behind her.

"Right behind you, Shepard."

* * *

**See why I said "happy ending"? Not sure if I would call drunken bar sex the most romantic way for these two to end up together, but at least they did it dammit!**

**When I finished writing this, I found that the idea wouldn't leave me alone. I like making Shep and Garrus feel awkward, and we all want to see what happens the next morning right?**

**Therefore, I am working on the sequel and will post the first chapter shortly.**

**Thank you again to all the reviewers and followers of this story. You have made my first fic experience a fantastic one!**


	8. Sequel announcement

Hi everyone! Just wanted to let you know that the sequel (called Honey) is in the works and the first chapter of has been posted.

Thanks again to everyone for your kind reviews and for setting alerts for the story. It means more to me than you know.


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